Shattered Windows
by Evilgrinstar
Summary: Harry has alter Egos! Come on his journey as they slowly disappear... and then suddenly make an appearance again! Are they too late to fix him? Find out!


**A/N: Okay, so new story! Hope you like!**

**Disclaimer: Me no own!**

The first time it happened he was four. He had been standing on his tippy-toes, trying to reach the stove so that he could cook, when Dudley pushed him. His hand had landed on the handle of the frying pan, flipping it over, splattering the oil on top of him. He had yelled in pain. His uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia had come rushing in, and had started shouting about _couldn´t he be careful? The oil and pan had costed money! And he´d spilt some on the rug, too! _He´d been scared- who wouldn´t have been? And then his uncle had run out and when he had come back in again, he had been brandishing a belt. He had been crying out in pain as the belt hit him, for hours on end, until he was thrown into his cupboard, and told that a freak like him deserved no better, and that he would have to do his chores again the next day. He had healed himself, somehow, and then when uncle Vernon had come to his cupboard in the morning, _to tell him to get up and do his chores,_ he had been almost fully okay again. His uncle had screamed though, and had started beating him again. So he had locked away that piece of himself that had done those wonders during the night, distancing himself from it, making sure it wouldn´t, _couldn´t,_ happen again. That was how Freak was born. Freak took with him the power that had healed him, that specialness, and kept it locked away deep down. The only times that it ever escaped were those many times he had been in deep distress or hurt.

The second time it had happened was half a year later. At that time his chores had begun seriously and he was kept busy working every day. And every moment was _Boy, why haven't you finished mowing the lawn yet! We don't have all day! Boy, where is my drink! Boy, work faster! Boy, why are there less eggs than usual?! _

That was how Boy had been created. Boy would come out for the chores, the work he had to do.

The next time had been on the very same day- He hadn't mowed the lawn fast enough and had been beaten even worse than the last times. _Worthless, _his uncle had said, _worthless, can't even mow the lawn in time! Worthless freak! Worthless! He needs to earn a living here! He's worthless! You hear that! You are worthless! _That had been how Worthless was created. Worthless would endure the beatings and punishments, without a word or a whimper, effectively making it worse, but still, Worthless existed and Worthless was immune to nothing.

The next time he had been six. Harry had secretly taught himself to read with all the books that Dudley hadn't wanted. _He was very smart_, his teacher had told him, she had written a letter to his aunt and uncle, had told them that _Harry should definitely skip a grade, if not more, would they possibly give permission? _That had been beaten out of him so severely that he had had to go to hospital, but with that trip there, another part of him departed- Prodigy. Gone were those nimble fingers that loved making wonderful melodies appear, inventing tunes that made even the birds stop singing. Gone. Gone the will to learn things as many as he had, gone the want to read books. After that all the marks he had scored were under Dudley's, they were terrible. Prodigy departed with a sigh of the wind.

The next time he had been seven. He had come to learn of his amazing abilities- he had managed to control things, make things appear with a snap of his fingers, he had even discovered the ability to change into animals, but once, he had snapped his fingers to stop the water from spilling, and it had pulled itself off of where it had almost touched the floor, and his uncle Vernon had come in at that moment and seen all of it. Magic had departed after the severe beating that had followed the event. Oh, he still would, in the future, have normal magic, like every normal person his age, but never the specialness he had had.

He had always, to the time Magic had left, hoped for some relative to help him escape, to take custody of him, to take care of him. When he had discovered Magic, he had hoped to escape with it's powers, but that was never destined to happen. And so, he came to realize that he would never escape this horrible place, and with that realization, Hope left him, too. The hope of escape from this damnation, the hope of peace, the hope of the end of the torment he was going through- Dissapeared.

**A/N: So, what do you think? Please tell me! Flames appreciated, they help me better my writing more to your tastes! Thanks,**

**Evilgrinstar (A.k.a Franca)**


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